The wind dances across the cliff’s edge.

  Jarrell stands just a few feet away from her.

  She doesn’t raise her staff this time. Doesn’t run. Doesn’t attack.

  He takes a cautious step closer.

  Nothing.

  Another.

  Still nothing.

  [THOUGHTS]

  Maybe it’s okay now.

  Maybe this is peace.

  He reaches his hand out slowly—just to get closer. Just to prove they’re not enemies anymore.

  She reacts.

  BOOM.

  Her magic flares—raw, instinctual. A defensive blast.

  Rell’s hands fly up—his own fire and adamant energy bursting out in a wild counter.

  The blast wave detonates between them.

  The shock sends her flying backward—off the cliff.

  Her staff spins into the air.

  A chunk of stone, torn from the blast, slams into her temple mid-fall.

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  Rell’s eyes go wide.

  He doesn’t hesitate.

  He dives.

  ---

  The fall is brutal.

  Branches whip past. Leaves blur. Then—

  SPLASH.

  He hits the river hard, choking water, grabbing wildly.

  His hand finds her arm.

  He pulls her up. Keeps her head above.

  The current grabs them both.

  [THOUGHTS]

  I ain’t never been good at swimming. Not back home. Not ever.

  They spin through whitewater, crashing off rocks, dragged toward a roaring edge.

  A waterfall looms ahead.

  Rell gasps.

  Spots her staff, spinning in the rapids.

  He lets go of her for half a second.

  Grabs the staff.

  Pulls her back.

  Focuses.

  The power in the staff burns in his hand—but it answers him.

  He channels.

  A pulse of magic explodes backward, launching them from the river like a rocket.

  They hit land—hard.

  Mud. Roots. Silence.

  ---

  He drags her up the bank.

  Her head’s bleeding—bad.

  He tears his cloak, wraps it around her forehead tight.

  Checks her breath.

  Still alive.

  [THOUGHTS]

  She saved me. Guess I owed her one.

  He lays beside her.

  Breathing hard.

  [SPEAKS]

  “Still not… good swimmer…”

  And then passes out.

  ---

  She wakes.

  Eyes snapping open.

  She reaches for her staff—points it at his head instantly.

  He doesn’t flinch.

  Doesn’t move.

  Just breathing soft in the grass.

  She notices the cloak wrapped around her head.

  Her dried skin.

  Her limbs dragged clear of the river.

  Her staff, placed gently at her side.

  Her pulse spikes.

  (SFX: badump.)

  Her brows furrow.

  [THOUGHTS]

  He touched me. Carried me. Bandaged me.

  And I didn’t wake.

  My barrier… didn’t even react.

  (SFX: badump.)

  She stares at him.

  Reaches out a hand—almost touches his cheek.

  But stops.

  Her fingers tremble slightly.

  She pulls away.

  Looks out at the trees.

  Then speaks—barely a whisper, but full of meaning.

  [SPEAKS]

  “You may walk with me. Survive with me… until this place breaks us. Or frees us.”

  She looks down at him one more time.

  Then turns.

  The moonlight glows against her hair.

  And in the silence, only one sound remains:

  (SFX: badump.)

  Volume 1 End.